Prisoner of Darkness
by chemphy
Summary: "I may be the Prince of Light, but in truth, I am merely a Prisoner of Darkness." Legolas had a dark past, a nightmare he wanted to shrug off behind him forever. But the darkness lived inside him, thriving stronger than before. Could he perhaps find solace in his new best friend, Dûreryn? Setting is during the Third Age. Warnings: Rape, incest, yaoi, OC.
1. Chapter 1

_This pain. The pain in my chest, ripping my heart to shreds mercilessly. What is this terrible feeling? The feeling of absolute pain and agony._

"Thranduil, gi melin." (_Thranduil, I love you) _Her voice was weak, like the sound of a dying person.

"Don't say anything. Just keep still," Thranduil whispered, grabbing the cold hand with his blood stained ones, as if hoping to pass the heat from his body to her. "Help will come soon. You'll be alright. Don't you remember your promise of how you are going to be by my side forever?" He could barely recognise his own voice, it sounded like a broken man – fragile and scared.

He licked his lips anxiously, as he stared into those dim blue eyes – eyes that were once so full of light.

"Goheno nin." (_Forgive me_) She simply smiled back gently, her eyes full of love and sorrow.

"No, you'll be fine.," Thranduil whispered as panic surged up inside him. He's losing her, he knew. "Don't leave me. Please." His voice cracked at the last word and his view blurred with unshed tears.

She coughed again, her chest heaving as drops of blood spilled onto the ground. She tightened her grip around Thranduil's hand, her lips moved soundlessly. She wanted to say something but she was too weak. Desperate, Thranduil leaned in close, trying to catch to her words. "What did you say?"

Thranduil heard the faintest whisper of "Namárië…" (_Farewell__…_) and then her grip loosened and her hand fell limply to the ground. The last of the light in those blue eyes was extinguished. When he looked into those blank eyes, it was like staring into an endless dark abyss where one could never see the light.

"No," Thranduil mumbled, shaking his head like he was in a trance. _This could not be happening. It simply could not!_ Pain such as he had never felt before ripped across his whole body, blinding him.

"Hîr vuin!" (_My Lord!_) A loud faraway cry sounded somewhere behind him, like a distinct echo. Low footsteps pattered, coming to a halt beside him.

"My Lord, are you alright?" Elron gasped, rushing to his side. There was a sharp intake of breath from Elron when he saw the lifeless figure beside Thranduil. "Hiril vuin…" (_My Lady…_) his voice choked.

"Kill them," Thranduil whispered in a deadly whisper through clenched teeth.

"What?"

"KILL THOSE ORCS!" Thranduil shouted with all his might. The loud inhuman roar soared through the skies, echoing around the barren wasteland – chilling the heart of all those who heard it.

"My Lord, you're badly wounded," Elron spoke up quietly.

Thranduil looked down at the huge gash on his chest – blood was streaming out from his wound but Thranduil paid no attention to the wound.

The sun was slowly settling in the West, dyeing the clouds and skies in shades of crimson – the same shade as the blood flowing on the grounds. A forlorn smile appeared on Thranduil's face as he gave a loud hoarse laugh.

_Can someone save me from this pain in my chest? If this is love, I don't want it. _Thranduil stood up as tears spilled down his face uncontrollably, his body shaking. He tried to take a step forward but his legs gave way and he fell down to the ground, feeling the coarse ground scraped against his skin.

"My Lord!" Elron shouted urgently.

He felt Elron's hands shaking him, urging him to wake up but his body felt so heavy. He could barely hear Elron's shouts now. He slowly closed his eyes, hoping that the darkness would wash over him so he would stop feeling the pain in his chest, smothering the last of light in his body so he could rejoin his loved ones.

xxxx

His thoughts wandered over to the day at Gundabad as his mind always did. Would it have been easier if he had died in the battlefield along with her? But he was played by fate for he recovered from his wounds. Many a times he had thought to end his own life, to end the suffering he felt but he had always refrain from doing so at the last minute – at the thought of his son, Legolas.

She would never forgave him if she knew that he leave Legolas all alone in this world.

"My Lord?"

"What?" Thranduil asked, annoyed at being disturbed. He was sitting on his throne with his head bowed, his fingers covering his face, trying to subdue the pounding in his head.

"Legolas wants to see you, My Lord," the guard replied.

Legolas – pain seared up inside him once more as an image of a beautiful face with cheerful blue eyes framed by long blond hair flashed across his mind. _"__Thranduil__… __Thranduil!__"_ The sweet melody that sounded like the crystalline flow of pure spring water rang in his head. His hands balled up into fists, drawing blood with his nails as he tried to banish the image from his mind. He will never see or hear her voice ever again.

He breathed in deeply, trying to grab his mind on what was happening now. He couldn't see Legolas now. He couldn't bear to look at Legolas when he looked so much like… so much like her.

"No," Thranduil replied monotonously.

The guard looked surprise. "What did you say, My Lord?"

"I said no! Ask him to go away!" Thranduil roared.

"But My Lord, it had been years since Legolas last talked to you, he–"

Thranduil stood up, his crimson cloak swirled around him. As he descended down from the towards the guard with a grim smile on his face, the guard quietened when he saw Thranduil's expression.

"Did I ask for your input?" Thranduil asked in a deadly whisper, circling around the guard like a serpent waiting to attack its pretty.

"N–No, My Lord." The guard trembled.

His face twisted into a semblance of a smile and then his eyes narrowed and fire danced across the steely ice-blue eyes. "Then go! Before I ask them to throw your dead body out!" Thranduil roared. The guard immediately bowed down and retreated hastily out from the throne room without another word.

Thranduil sat back down on his throne, the pounding in his head grew louder. He knew that it was wrong to isolate Legolas. But what other choice did he had? He heaved a sigh, hoping that the constant throbbing in his head would died away.

xxxx

The wine was dulling all his senses. The view in front of him swam and the chatter of the crowd was dimmed to a low buzz. It was Mereth e-nGilith night, the Feast of Starlight and as King of Mirkwood, he had an obligation to attend the party and celebrate with the others.

He drew himself to full height and nodded with a tight lip smile at those who smiled or greeted him – an attempt to show that he cared for his subordinates. But actually he could not hear or focus on anything – everything was a blur to him. It was all a pretence to show everyone that he was the king everyone looked up to, the king who had total control over everything including his emotions.

When he saw the huge wooden doors of the banquet room, he breathed out in relief. Finally, the night was almost over. Now he could retreat to his room in peace and drown his sorrows with endless glasses of wine.

A smirk appeared on his lips when he glanced at the blood-like liquid – wine. Such a powerful remedy for the constant ache in his chest. The smirk on his face widened when he stepped out from the Banquet room, one hand nursing a glass of wine.

He swayed as he walked towards his bedroom, missing a step and nearly fell down. He reached out one hand unsteadily to the wall to balance himself. Wine sloped from the side of his glass, spilling a pool of red by his feet.

A low smirk twisted upon his face. Look at him. He looked just like a drunk person – him who was supposed to be the King of Mirkwood.

He pushed the doors opened and walked stumblingly into his bedroom. When he raised his head, his breath caught in his throat and his heart stopped beating for a second. A slender figure with long blond hair was sitting on his bed.

"Melethril?"(L_over?)_ Thranduil muttered, his tongue felt thick and heavy.

The elegant figure stood up, staring back at him with an anxious expression. "Ada, are you drunk?"

His heart sank like a heavy stone when he heard the voice. That voice, it sounded nothing like her sweet tinkling melody. And she would never called him ada. He let out a hoarse, dry cackle that echoed across the bedchamber – it sounded fake and unreal. How could he be so naive? She was gone. He will never see her again. Never. Again.

"Ada?" Legolas's beautiful face came into focus.

Thranduil blinked, suddenly realising that Legolas was standing within touching distance. When did it happened?

"Are you alright?" Legolas's brows were furrowed. Somehow it seemed more beautiful when his face was twisted in pain and anxiety.

Thranduil reached out a hand shakily, trailing the outline of his cheekbones with the back of his hand. Legolas's eyes widened slightly at the gesture, but he stood there like a perfectly sculpted statue breathed to life.

Thranduil raised his gaze, studying the soft-rose like petals lips, the sharp, refined nose and those clear sky-blue eyes – eyes that were so much like _her._ Legolas had grown up so fast. Without him realising it, each day, Legolas's features had become more refined, sharper and beautiful. Each day, he grew more to resemble _her._

"You look so beautiful," Thranduil murmured, sliding his fingers down to Legolas's lips, fingering the sweet rose buds.

Doubt crept into those azure eyes, clouding the clear blue sky.

_Don__'__t do it! _A voice spoke up in the back of his mind despite the misty haze surrounding him. _Are you crazy? He is not her! He is your son!_

_What are you waiting for? Haven't you been wanting to hold her again? So what if he was your son?_

"Ada?" Legolas bit down his bottom lip, his eyes wide and imploring. Thranduil saw his lips moved but his voice was drowned out by the adrenaline rushing through his ears.

Thranduil bent forward, cupping the angelic face with his hands and then he crushed those soft petals with his lips. Legolas was completely taken by surprise. He could barely react as Thranduil attacked his lips voraciously, drinking in his saliva and exploring the cavern of his warm mouth with his tongue. Legolas tasted like the cool, clean spring water that flowed in the mountains – tasty and refreshing.

Thranduil wrapped his arms around Legolas's slim waist and pushed him backward. Legolas's eyes widened with horror when he found himself falling down on the bed, one hand raised in front of him as if acting as a shield.

Thranduil climbed onto the bed, his dark shadow towering above Legolas. He had lost complete control over his actions, at that moment, he only knew that he wanted to take Legolas as his own.

"Ada?" Legolas whimpered, retreating backwards on the bed, trembling with fear. "Man ceril?" (_What are you doing?_)

Thranduil didn't reply, he unhooked his cloak and let it fell to the ground with a slither, his hands now skilfully unbuttoning his shirt.

"Ada, daro!" (_Father, stop!_) Legolas pleaded, his voice choked. His expression turned to dread when he found himself hitting something hard behind – he had bumped into the headboard.

He turned around, gaping in fear. "Please," Legolas sobbed, a tear slid down his face, cutting across the flawless cheek like a dagger. Thranduil reached out and wiped away the tear with surprising tenderness.

"Av-'osto," (_Don__'__t be afraid_) Thranduil whispered. Flames of hope flickered across Legolas's eyes. Had Thranduil perhaps came to his senses? But the hope died when he saw the wild, demonic look in Thranduil's eyes.

Thranduil sneered as he closed in upon Legolas, cutting off the last of light in Legolas's sight. "NO!" Legolas screamed as Thranduil tore his clothes, ripping apart his shirt to rags and tossed them to the floor. The coldness of the night was frigid to his skin but the cold he felt came from his heart. Legolas stifled a sob when he felt something warm slipped beneath his underside.

"Please bear with the pain for a little while," Lord Thranduil murmured. Legolas barely had time to process those words when a sharp gutting pain pierced across him, tearing him in half. His body was heating up – pain seared across his body like a burning fire. It was a drastic contrast to the cold he felt. The skin of his insides were ripped apart – hot liquid seeped out, lubricating his insides, dulling the fire slightly.

"It hurts!" Legolas wept, clawing at Thranduil, trying to push him away but Thranduil grabbed his hands in a steely grip and pinned them to his sides.

"Please stop!" Legolas cried out, tears streamed down his pretty face.

Thranduil showed no sign that he heard his pleas nor did he slow down. Sobs racked Legolas's lithe body as he clawed the bedsheets beneath him. Legolas gasped, trying to breath through the pain. Fear had paralysed him and terror gripped at his windpipes, choking him and cutting off his air supply.

Thranduil took him over and over again. There seemed to be no rhythmic pattern, just a wild, frenzy pounding of flesh against flesh.

Legolas gritted his teeth, racking his brains for thoughts that could lessen the pain. _Don__'__t think about this. Think about something else that makes you happy __– __like when you explored the forest and saw the stars that lit up the whole sky. _He gasped as Thranduil ram him hard from behind, cutting in through his thoughts. White spots appeared in his view and his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe. He tried to refocus his gaze but his consciousness was slowly slipping away.

Before the darkness fully engulfed him, he dimly heard a sob and the gentle whisper of Thranduil's voice – "Gi melin." (_I love you._) He had never heard his father spoke in such way before – his voice was soft, gentle and there was so much love in them that it pricked his heart in a way he didn't understand.

_To be continue__…_

_**Hope you all like the story. Will you guys want more? Please leave a review behind and thank you for reading. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**_First of all, a big thank you to both firewalker 500 and Jet'aimeowen for your reviews, as well as those who favourite the story. :) I really appreciate it. _**

**_Anyway, here is the second chapter. Hope that you guys like it. _**

_It was a long dream. A dream filled with so many confusing sounds __– __someone was crying bitterly, shouts of pain and then was another voice, a sad one. The voice held so much regret and sorrow that it hurt to even listen to it. _

_Who are they, I wonder, and why are they in so much pain? Those voices, they sounded familiar. Like it belonged to someone I heard almost everyday, like they were someone precious to me. Is that why my chest clenched tightly when I heard those voices?_

"Prince Legolas?" Someone was shaking him gently. "Wake up, Prince Legolas."

His eyelids felt so heavy and his body was sore. He wanted to move his head and open his eyes to see who was the one calling him. But every part of his body felt stiff and heavy. That's strange. He used to be able to do everything effortlessly, moving swiftly like the wind.

"Prince Legolas?" There was an edge of panic in the voice.

Feebly, Legolas fluttered his eyes opened. But the moment he opened his eyes, he felt like closing them again. A sharp throbbing pain assaulted his head, like he was hit by a hammer.

"My Prince?"

He blinked groggily, trying to clear the hazy view. His world was still swirling but it was getting better, he could see the wooden beams of the bed and the golden gauze canopy. Legolas's brows furrowed at the sight. This wasn't his room. Where was he?

When he turned his head, he locked eyes with a pair of anxious grey ones – Elron, Thranduil's most trusted advisor.

"Elron, why are you here?" Legolas muttered weakly, still trying to righten his world. "My Prince, are you feeling alright?" Elron asked, his tone casual but Legolas could detect a hint of urgency behind it.

Legolas slowly smiled. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Elron's eyes widened in surprise then he bit down his lips, looking worried. "My Prince, are you positively sure?"

"Yes, I–" the words died in his throat as he felt a flash of blinding pain down his lower part. "What?" Legolas gasped, pulling away the blankets covering him. His breathing became shallow and his heart stopped beating for a second.

_It wasn't a dream._

The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped drastically because he was suddenly numbed with cold. Realisation dawned upon him slowly, cutting through the haze in his mind as he slowly took in the scene around him – the blood stains on the golden bedsheets and the trails of dry caked blood across his thighs. His hands shook and the blanket fell back down, hiding the terrible truth from sight.

_It wasn't a dream__… __It wasn't a dream!_ The woods kept on repeating in his mind over and over again. He couldn't breath. Couldn't. Breath.

"My Prince, please get a grip on yourself," Elron laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

But Elron's words rushed past Legolas like rapid waters gushing out from the mountain, flowing past quickly, the force unstoppable. Bits and pieces of memories flashed through his mind as his pleading cries and sobs echoed in his mind once more. The images were so real that it felt like it was happening to him again.

"Please don't! Please! Stop!" Words of his pleas and cries were ignored as sharp stabbing pains pierced him again and again. Legolas clapped his hands over his ears, shaking his head.

_No!_ He didn't want to listen! _Turn it off. Turn it off!_ But the cries didn't die down, he could still hear it so clearly like it was just ringing beside his ears.

"No!" Legolas let out a loud, guttural cry, trying to drown out the voices in his head.

A sob surged up inside Legolas as he felt tears pricking his eyes. Why? Why was this happening to him?

xxxx

"My Lord, this has to stop," Elron said urgently.

Thranduil's hand shook slightly at the mention of that but otherwise he looked completely unaffected. He turned his mask-like face towards Elron, his lips tightened to form a straight line. "I believe that _I_ am the King of Mirkwood. Who are you to tell me what I should be doing? Have you forgotten your place?" His tone hardened like steel, matching the glares he was giving Elron.

"My Lord, you didn't see the expression on Prince Legolas's face when he woke up. He was traumatised and terrified beyond reason. He had suffered a deep blow when his mother died and now this?"

Thranduil flashed a deadly glare at Elron, hinting him to stop talking but Elron didn't cower in fear. He stood there firmly on the ground, his eyes ablazed with confidence.

"My Lord, I saw from the Prince's face that all these ordeals are sucking off his energy bit by bit. You're slowly destroying him, My Lord!" He was overwhelmed by emotions, temporary forgotten who he was speaking to.

When he caught the look on Thranduil's face, he knew he had crossed some sort of invisible line. He immediately stopped talking and stared fearfully at Thranduil.

Anger flashed across his eyes but then his face relaxed and his lips curled up in a stiff smile. "Elron, I have a great respect for your wisdom but sometimes you think too much." His tone held the warmth of an ice.

"Am I, My Lord? Have you been looking at him properly? Can't you see the empty voids in those eyes? Eyes that were once filled with so much laughter and light."

"Do not talk of things you don't understand," Thranduil snapped, fury lined his face.

Elron who was always loyal and obedient would normally had kept silent when he heard that tone but this time, he swore to himself that he would not stand aside while watching Prince Legolas suffered as he was raped by Thranduil again and again.

"Why can't you sense the pain and agony Legolas felt? I know you miss her but you cannot take out your desires on Legolas! You are–"

"Silence!"

Thranduil's cries echoed across the throne room, the columns seemed to shook from the force of his voice. Thranduil's nostrils flared and his eyes burned with fire, scorching hot.

"Enough. Is this what you have been poisoning Legolas's head with? That I was the one destroying him?" Thranduil asked, his voice smooth but rage was bubbling beneath the glass surface, threatening to erupt at any second.

"No, My Lord, I was merely telling you what I observed," Elron said humbly, bowing down low.

"Is that why Legolas stopped looking at me in the eye anymore?" Thranduil murmured, fingering the crimson cloak that reflected the fire in his eyes. "All because of you?" His voice lowered to a whisper.

Then he moved at astonishing speed, stopping in front of the surprise Elron. The fire in those eyes seemed to burn brighter and then Elron gasped, feeling himself being lifted up from the ground. Thranduil tightened his grasp around Elron's neck, constricting his windpipes as he struggled to breath.

"It wa-wasn't me," Elron choked, struggling against Thranduil's grip.

Thranduil didn't loosened his hold, his eyes fixing upon him thoughtfully. Elron's lungs burned for oxygen and his throat felt dry. This was his last shot. If he succeeded, those would be the words that saved him, if not, it would be his last words.

"I'm not afraid of death, My Lord," Elron gasped, his view was now prickled with white spots. "But please think about Legolas!"

The fire in Thranduil's eyes flickered and then he clenched his teeth together with a pained expression. Elron was lifted up into the air and then he felt a swoop in his stomach as he was flung down on the cold, hard ground. He could taste blood in his mouth. Still gasping for air, Elron massaged his throat, an immense of relief rushed through him. His eyes watered as he breathed in deeply, the cold air stinging him.

Slowly and weakly, he climbed up from the ground shakily, with his head bowed towards Thranduil.

"Go. Before I change my mind," Thranduil whispered. Then without another word, Thranduil swept around, his cloak swished as he climbed up the stairs to his throne.

Elron heaved a sigh, he knew that it was futile to discuss this further. As much as he wanted to try to help prince Legolas, it seemed foolish to argue with Thranduil when he was looking so murderous.

"Yes, My Lord," Elron said, one hand on his chest as he bowed low and then he retreated a few steps behind. Just before Elron turned around to leave, he sneaked a peek at Thranduil. To his surprise, Thranduil was staring at him, his gaze condescending as he looked down at him from above but – Elron's heart skipped a beat – those eyes also hold a sign of remorse. Thranduil blinked and the normal expressionless eyes were back, he turned his back and the last sight Elron saw was his crimson cloak.

xxxx

Lights shone from above, casting a warm glow over Legolas. He slowly straightened himself, leaning against the oak branches headboard for support. His whole body hurt. He tried to climb down from the bed, wincing as he felt a stabbing pain at his underside. He paused in his actions, turning around as gently as possible to check the seriousness of his wounds.

Blood dripped down as he moved, creating a trail of rubies that glowed under the light. He shuddered as last night memory came to haunt him again. Without him noticing, he was digging his fingernails into his arm, drawing blood.

_Yesterday__…_

_It had become a routine. Everyday Legolas would be summoned to Thranduil__'__s bedchambers at sundown. He had naively thought that if he ran far enough, he would be able to escape from Thranduil__'__s grasp. __So yesterday before the sun set, Legolas ran to the forest and climbed the trees, hoping to hide from the guards. He stopped when he reached the top of the tree, staring down at the magnificent view that laid beneath him._

_The sun was slowly descending, there was still hints of blue across the sky but the clouds near to the sun were crimson red. The sun shone its light across the vast area, showering everything in sight with its warmth and light. Legolas closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh air as the wind billowed around him, taking away all of his worries. He stretched out his hands wide open, seemingly embracing the warm sun, inviting the sun to chase away all the darkness in his heart and let his heart reflected the glow from the lake that glimmered like white gems. _

_But the moment was short._

_Legolas__'__s eyes flew open when he heard the movements of flighty footsteps approaching him. The guards had arrived__…_

_With a longing look at the sunset one last time, Legolas dove down in the maze of tree trunks, away from the sun. He tried to dodge and weave his way through the tangled limbs of trees, putting as much distance as he could between him and the guards. Unfortunately, he couldn't escape from the guards and eventually he was brought back to Mirkwood._

_He was forced to kneel down in front of Thranduil but he refused to raise his head and look him in the eye. _

"_Why won__'__t you look at me?__" __Thranduil__'__s voice sounded like ripples upon the lake, quiet and calm._

_Legolas bowed his head, his heart thumping madly in his chest. _

"_Legolas?__"_

_Legolas bit down his lips hard, feeling Thanduil__'__s gaze penetrating him. The light around him suddenly dimmed as Thranduil bent towards him, his dark shadows chasing away all the light around him._

_He flinched then he felt a sharp stab of pain._

_Thranduil grabbed him by the hairs on his forehead, pulling him upright and forcing him to look him into those cold merciless azure eyes. Legolas closed his eyes shut and turned his head away, ignoring the stabbing pain on his forehead._

"_If that__'__s how you want it, fine,__" __Thranduil hissed, practically smothering with rage._

_As a punishment for his escape and disobedience, Thranduil blindfolded him and bind his hands together with a rope as he tied him to the headboard, preventing him from moving. With his eyesight gone, all his other senses became more enhanced. His worst nightmare had just gotten even worse._

_He had stopped shouting out in pain now. He merely bit down his lips, subduing the painful cries at the back of his throat. His body trembled and shook as Thranduil rammed into him hard, tearing apart his wounds as a fresh batch of blood coated his insides once more, sweeping away the pain. Halfway through, Thranduil raised his legs over his shoulders so he could penetrate him deeper, wounding him further. He gripped his leg so tightly that he leave white fingermarks across Legolas__'__s pale tights, marking him as his._

_He had passed out once again during the vigorous ordeal. But before he fainted, Thranduil had called one name when raping him __– __his mother__'__s name. _

A pang rose up in his chest and tears welled up again at the memory. He quickly ran his hand over his eyes, wiping away the tears. He knew Ada missed her, so did he. But somehow when Thranduil was inside him and he called out another person's name, a different kind of pain ached inside him.

_To be continue__…_

_**I forgot to mention that this story will eventually end up either Legolas/Thranduil or Legolas/OC who is also a guy. Will love to hear the reader**__**'**__**s thought on this matter, but you guys can hold your judgement until you meet D**__**û**__**reryn. **_

_**P.S. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter and please review. :) It will be a superb encouragement for me to continue this story. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Sorry for the long, long wait everyone. Recently someone told me that my story lines and writing skills are not good enough. And it kinds of get into me. So, I had been scared of writing for some time. But thanks to fanfiction lover 228 and the supporting reviews, favs and alerts from you all, I decided to brave my darkest fear. Thus I picked up my pen (literally speaking) and began writing again. **_

_**This chapter is dedicated to those who have supported me up until now. Thank you for your support and hope you all like this new chapter. **_

Elron rapped the golden gilded wooden door with one hand, balancing the tray with another. "Prince Legolas?"

There was no sound.

_Was he perhaps still sleeping? _Gently, Elron nudged the door open with his foot.

His heart gave a sharp twinge as soon as his eyes landed on the bed. Instead of a sleeping Legolas, a figure was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the balcony. His eyes were empty. Faraway.

Elron tightened his grip around the tray. Why couldn't Lord Thranduil see all this? It was right in front of him but he choose to ignore it. Elron coughed and forced a smile on his face, pretending that everything was fine.

"Rise and shine, Prince Legolas." Damn. His voice cracked from the fake cheerfulness but Legolas didn't notice. In fact, he didn't acknowledge him even now. Elron kneeled down on his knees in front of Legolas, raising the tray. "My prince, please drink the medicine while it's still hot."

Legola didn't say anything, but he raised his hands weakly to take the bowl. A pang rose up in Elron's chest when he saw the crimson gash across Legolas's wrists. Lord Thranduil must have tied him up again last night.

Legolas cradled the bowl, looking down at it blankly. The smooth surface of the liquid reflected Legolas's expression like a mirror – it was a defeated face that had lost all hope.

"Prince Legolas, you better–" The words died in his throat when he felt a weight on his arm. Startled, he looked down to see Legolas gripping him, turning a pair of weak hopeful eyes at him. It had been so long since he saw another emotion behind those eyes instead of fear and horror.

"Yes?" Elron asked curiously. He could see that Prince Legolas wanted to tell him something but he was holding it back.

"Tell me, Elron." His voice barely above a whisper. Elron struggled to catch every word of his clearly. "Tell me. How can I leave this place?"

Ba-thump.

His heart squeezed at those words. He knew the answer. He had been thinking about it for several days, debating with himself whether to tell Prince Legolas about it. He swallowed hard. He didn't want to be the one who killed the last of Legolas's light but – a lump lodged at his throat – if Lord Thranduil knew what he was going to say, he's going to kill him.

Elron shook his head slowly from side to side. "I–" The sentence hung in mid-air. He didn't seem to have the energy to finish it.

"Please, Elron, please tell me," Legolas whispered pleadingly. "You're the only one I can confide in."

He knew he was going to regret saying this when Lord Thranduil sentenced his death but the hopeful pleading eyes Legolas gave him was hard to resist. "Well, you can join the Elven Guards," Elron whispered conspiratorially.

"The Elven Guards?"

"Yes, it's a team of elite elves who will destroy monsters in the forest, check the surrounding for any spies and keep Mirkwood free from harm."

"I'll be able to leave this place if I join them?" There was a spark of delight in Legolas's voice.

"Well, not always–" the light in Legolas's eyes dimmed "– but there are missions that you might need to spend overnight."

And just like that, the light was back on in those eyes. "How can I join them?"

Elron exhaled deeply, releasing the pent-up tension inside him. Looked like there's no turning back now. "The General of the Elven Guards is my good friend. I can… have a talk with him privately and have them recruit you," Elron mused thoughtfully. "But you are not allow to tell your father about this. Do you understand?" He added urgently. If Lord Thranduil knew about his involvement in this, he would never forgave him. Never.

Legolas's face turned somber as he nodded his head resolutely. "I promise. It will be our secret."

Even though the rest of Mirkwood was filled with light, the meeting chamber was surprisingly dark and cold. Situated at the lowest level of Mirkwood, the sunlight that pierced through the shafts of bright glass could not reach here. The elves-made lamps hung on the ceiling were a poor substitute and did little to light up the place. The meeting chamber was huge and minimally furnished, with only a huge wooden table and a few chairs dotted the empty space. Several oil canvas decorated the huge wall in front of them, depicting the brave and colourful stories of the Elven Guards. Below the canvas were rows and rows of swords, daggers, bows and shields.

The air was stale and musty. And there was also this sickening odour – metallic rust and sour sweat smell – permeating the air. Legolas wrinkled his nose as he stood there among the other fifty hopefuls who wanted to join the Elven Guards. This was a place he would like to avoid but now did not seemed like a choice.

Legolas heaved a sigh as he looked around, trying to keep his spirits up by looking at the glorious oil canvas. Legolas had heard of the Elven Guards before – their fame, their capabilities and the amazing feat they had accomplished. Their name was known wide and near. Yet Legolas had never imagined himself to be joining ranks with them. Back then he had always thought his future was secured. People was always telling him about how special he was – Prince of the Mirkwood and possible future heir to the throne. He had no need to worry about his future.

All he had to do was to take care of his image. But his fate was changing now. Now, being the Elven Guard may be his only hope of escaping. Legolas swallowed a gulp as these thoughts assaulted him, blinding him with a torrent of emotions. He shook his head, as if he could shake these awful thoughts away from his mind. _No. No more negative thoughts. This is a new start. A new beginning. _

Nobody approached Legolas as they huddled in their own little groups, occasionally darting curious glances at him. Thanks to his sharp hearing, Legolas could in fact hear every word of their conversation – they were wondering why the Prince of Mirkwood was here and whether it was a punishment. He kept a placid face, pretending to be ignorant of the talk that was going on around him. Even though some of the words were getting into him.

He shuffled his foot uncomfortably and pretended to keep himself busy by twirling his dagger. Then suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. Startled, Legolas turned around to find another elf standing behind. Unlike the other elves at Mirkwood, he had jet black hair that was as dark as the night sky – an unlucky omen for the elves. It was an age where the elves were still superstitious. Although they tried not to show it, they tend to back away from those who have darker hair or eyes colour, believing that they were a bringer of bad luck.

The conversation around them died down as everyone stared at them, curious to what was going on. A warm smile lit up his pale face and his twinkling eyes were a shade of dark turquoise. Ignoring the curious stares of the elves, he extended one hand out to Legolas. "Hey, my name is Dûreryn. What's yours?"

Legolas was completely taken aback by his question. No way. This guy did not know him? A shade of light pink covered his cheeks as he realised how snobbish he sounded. He didn't mean it that way. Still, it was strange for him that someone did not know his identity and then a rush of cool air flowed through him. Perhaps, this guy was just trying to make him feel less awkward by _pretending _not to know him. He was just being friendly.

Legolas's lips curled up in a small smile, a weak attempt to match Dûreryn's smile. "Hi, I am Legolas." He studied the dark turquoise eyes, expecting to see a glimpse of surprise or recognition or anything to show Dûreryn knew of his existence. But his eyes showed no such emotions, it only reflected the smile on Dûreryn's face.

"Legolas?" Dûreryn echoed. "That's a nice name."

Intrigued, Legolas was about to ask more when a sharp trumpet was blown to announce the arrival of the General of the Elven Guards. Those who lazed around were snapped to attention and stood up straight, facing the front where a tall, elegant elf garbed in armour of bright silver walked to the front.

Like all elves, there was not a wrinkle in sight and his face still contained features of youth but from the traces of silver in his brows and hair, Legolas knew that he was anything but young. Light brown hair flowed down beneath his helm. His eyebrows furrowed as he swept his discerning light blue eyes across the group. Those light blue eyes lingered a second longer on Legolas than others which made Legolas's heart thumped forebodingly.

_Will he tell father? _Legolas wondered fearfully but before he could dwell on his thoughts any longer, the General spoke up.

"So, you all want to be an Elven Guard?" His voice was quiet but full of authority – everyone hung onto his every word. "You think that you have what it takes to be an Elven Guard?" Dead silence greeted his statement. Nobody knew how to respond to his question.

The General did not seemed surprise by their reaction, he ploughed on, "It is not easy to be an Elven Guard. Here, we will undergo a series of tough trainings: combat fightings, deadly overnight missions–" Legolas's heart skipped an excited beat "–and intense lectures about the enemies. It's a combination of both physical and mental skills. We, the Elven Guards only consist of Elves who are the brightest, the smartest, the bravest and the strongest. Do you think you have what it takes?"

Everyone exchanged doubtful glances with one another. "Well, do you?" He bellowed suddenly, jolting them all out of their senses.

"Yes, sir!" Some yelled back in response including Legolas and Dûreryn.

"Are you all mute?" He shouted again, his voice ringing with so much force that the weapons in front of them trembled from the echoes. "Answer me! Do you have what it takes?"

"Yes, sir, yes!" This time everyone shouted in unison. Legolas felt a surge of energy as he shouted with the rest of the group. It gave him strength.

The General nodded his head grimly. "That's much better." He seemed to have quietened down again as he paced in front of them. "At here, there is no favouritism. All Elven Guards are treated equally." As he said this, he turned towards Legolas, boring holes into him with his cold blue eyes. "Including_ royalties_." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Legolas inhaled sharply, trying to not flinch. Instead, he straightened his back and held his head up high, looking at him right in the eyes. For a second, surprise flickered across those scorning light blue eyes and then the cold look was back as he swept his gaze away.

"I must tell you that in every recruitment, only five percent of the recruiters actually managed to become a real Elven Guard." He stopped dead centre in the room, his lips twisted into a semblance of a smile – his smile said '_You guys will never be able to make it._'

"Well, if you are all certain, then come forward and write down your names. That will be all for now." He clapped his hands together and walked away.

For a second, nobody moved and then one red-hair elf walked to the front boldly, bending down and writing his name on the piece of parchment. Slowly, everyone began to follow after his footsteps, lining up to sign their names.

Legolas was about to take a step forward when he lifted his head, locking eyes with the General who was staring at him intently. Again. The sides of the General's lips curled up into a smirk. He seemed to be mocking him silently, thinking that a well-bred Prince like him wouldn't be able to undergo all the tough trainings provided. That he should quit while he could.

Legolas felt trapped under his intense gaze, he was still wondering what to do when there was a gentle nudge at his side. Breaking the spell.

"So, do you still want to join?" Dûreryn asked hopefully, tilting his head at the line. Oblivious to the silent war going between Legolas and the General.

Legolas glanced back at the General warily. He was now talking to the other Elven Guards. The General could obviously sensed him staring because the smirk on his face widened. One thing Legolas hated most was when people tried to tell him that he couldn't do it. How weak he was. He would see this as a chance to improve himself. A challenge. And he would prove to the General and his father that he was worthy of being an Elven Guard.

For the first time in months, his heart raced with excitement and he felt a sense of renewed hope. When he looked at Dûreryn again, his eyes were full of confidence. "Yes, of course."

_To be continue…_

_**Once again, thanks for all the support until now. Hope you like this new chapter. And I have a question for you all. Will you all prefer a whipping/bondage torture rape by Thranduil? I know it sounded pretty dark and intense but was just wondering if you guys are up for the challenge? ;) Will love to know what you guys think! Thank you for reading once again.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Seriously sorry for the late updates everyone. Been super busy. Though I did try to cram in some time to write. Thank you for all the reviews l received. I really appreciate it and that was the type of motivation that help me to finish this chapter. Hope you guys will still continue to like the story. Enjoy!_**

**Thranduil's POV**

There was this throbbing pain in his head like he was hit by a blunt hammer over and over again. Damn. Maybe he shouldn't have drink so much. Thranduil gazed down at the glass-like surface – his face looked sickly and his eyes were hollow.

He dropped the goblet down on the table with a clatter. "Guards!"

_Maybe some pleasure would take away a bit of the pain. _

The door opened slightly as a guard slipped in between the gap. "My Lord?"

"Call Prince Legolas over." Thranduil massaged his temple with the tip of his fingers, wishing the pain would just go away.

"Yes, My Lord," The guard replied dutifully, closing the door gently after him. As the door closed shut, a surge of guilt ceased down upon him.

He could almost hear Elron's accusing voice ringing by his ears, as if he was just right beside him, shouting at him. _It's all because of you!_

How dare him. Thranduil's blood boiled at the thought. He wanted to block out that awful voice. That awful accusing voice that spiked out his darkest fears. He glanced around like a drunken man, when he saw the goblet. A slow smile twisted upon his face. _Ahhh. Sweet glorious wine. A liquid so powerful that could take away every bit of his pain. _He twirled the goblet, watching the ripples breaking the glass-like surface. Thranduil tipped his head back and took a deep gulp. A rush of relief flooded through him as the sweet cold wine slid down his throat.

The doors opened again with a slight creak.

Lazily, Thranduil raised his head an inch, expecting to see a scared yet defiant Legolas beside the guard. He blinked. Certain that there was some mistake. His vision swam in front of him but he blinked again, trying to focus. The guard was standing in front of him. Looking scared. Alone.

"Where is he?" Thranduil's voice turned ugly, his face twisted.

"I – He – My Lord–" The guard blabbered like some idiot. Thranduil stood up. The world swirled around him, blinding him for a second as the wine rushed into his head at full force. He steadied himself by clinging onto his throne. Wobbling slightly, he slowly descended down from his throne.

"Where. Is. He?" He enunciated every word through gritted teeth.

The guard was withering under his glare. "Prince – Prince Legolas is currently training with the Elven Guards."

Thranduil's eyes widened in surprise. His world rightened at once. Slamming back into him at full force.

_The Elven Guards?_

xxxx

Water dripped down somewhere with a low, constant 'plip plip,' leaving stains on the wall. The shouts of people, metallic weapons clashing and the stench of the room was making the bass drums in his head pounded faster. Clouding his senses. Thranduil tried to breath in evenly, not wanting the foul stench of the place to choke him. He would only come to this place when necessary. For example, when they were going for war or to show the Elven Guards that they had the Elven King's support. All just to maintain the Elven King's good image.

Thranduil glanced around, wondering why would Legolas want to come to a place like this. Thranduil's lips spread into a slow, easy smile. The tension knotted in his shoulders melted away like he had just took another sip of wine. Surely there must be some mistake. Perhaps the Guard had wrongly informed him about Legolas joining the Elven Guards or maybe –

His train of thoughts were interrupted when a shadow blocked his path, greeting him. "My Lord." The General bent his body low, kneeling down in front of him. "It's an honour to see you. And what may it be that bring your Lordship to this filthy place?" A strong whiff of sarcasm in his tone.

Thranduil flicked his gaze towards him dismissively, sweeping his gaze around the crowd, searching around for a certain blonde elf. "Where is he?"

"Who are you talking about, My Lord?" The General asked calmly. His flat tone just seemed to fuel the bubbling anger Thranduil felt beneath his skin.

Thranduil inhaled sharply, trying to control the rage inside him that was threatening to erupt. He had always despised communicating with the General. He was always so infuriatingly calm. Composed. Like he was above Thranduil just because _he_ was the General of the Elven Guards – protecting the lives of the elves. If it wasn't for his amazing battle skills and experience, Thranduil would have disposed of him. Immediately.

"My _son_, Prince Legolas." There was a bite of frost in his tone.

"Oh I see." A slow smile appeared on the wizened face. As if amused to see Thranduil's ire. Thranduil had to control himself from snapping at him. If only he could see the depth of his anger, he wouldn't have the guts to smile at him that way. Thranduil glanced away, tapping his feet against the ground impatiently as he waited for a reply.

"Recently, rumours are floating around that Prince Legolas is looking wan. Like he was being mistreated," the General said loftily, his voice loud enough for all the other elves within vicinity to hear.

Thranduil snapped his head back to the General, his eyes flashed. It was a bait for him. A bait to lure out the murderous dragon hiding beneath his mask-like face – to reveal who Thranduil really was to everyone.

"Words can be twisted," Thranduil replied forcefully. _Just like how much I would love to see you being twisted into knots, writhing in front of me and begging for mercy._

"Is that true now?" The General smiled slowly, then he leaned in close to him – Thranduil pulled back slightly, fearing that the General was going to attack him – but all he did was whispered into his ears. "I'll watch out my back if I were you. _Everybody_ is watching."

Thranduil wrenched his body away, not wanting the General's stench to leave behind on him. He made a huge gesture of sweeping invisible dust away from his sleeves. "Well noted," he replied curtly, trying not to let the disgust showed on his face. "Now, where is my son?" Thranduil said through gritted teeth.

"He's over there." He pointed cavalierly to the centre of the room. The group of elves blocking his view parted to the side – revealing Legolas chatting animatedly with a dark hair elf. Thranduil's breath caught in his throat as he stared disbelievingly at them.

When? When did all this happen? And how did he not know about this? Then realisation hit him right in the head as everything became clear at once. _Elron_. It must be him. The blood in his veins boiled so furiously that he had the urge to throw or smash something.

He took a deep breath, trying to subdue his emotions. Nearly choking as he inhaled the sour smell of sweat and rust. But he managed to regain his composure. It was important to remain calm and composed in front of the other elves. He would channel the rage he felt into adrenaline when he faced Legolas. Alone.

Legolas was in deep conversation with his friend, laughing openly about something. Looking carefree. Happy. Unlike when he was with him. Thranduil's brows locked together at the sight. Feeling a surge of proprietary. _He's mine. All mine._

At that moment, Legolas turned his head. Those light blue eyes widened in surprise and then terror flashed ever so clear in those eyes. The laughter paused midway, hanging awkwardly in the air.

His mouth was frozen between a laugh and a gasp. The youth beside him had yet to observe anything amiss and was now bending double over with laughter. Legolas on the other hand seemed to have turned into a statue. Barely breathing. Frozen. Terrified.

Thranduil cocked his head to the side, trying to catch Legolas's eyes – beckoning him silently to come after him. But Legolas averted his gaze and hung his head low, staring at the ground.

Thranduil walked smoothly across the hard, uneven ground, his cloak trailing on the floor. With each step he took, the temper inside him flared higher almost as if he could incinerate everyone and everything around him.

He narrowed his eyes to tiny slits at the youth. Noting the pale skin that accentuated the jet black hair and dark turquoise eyes – signs of misfortune. Those dark eyes twinkled brightly as he gazed at Legolas full of adoration. Thranduil's eyes narrowed even further. He would never let Legolas, the Prince of Light to mix with someone like that.

Thranduil imagined himself ordering his guards to chase the youth away from Mirkwood. He smiled ruefully. Yes. He would think of some crimes to frame him and then he would banished the youth from Mirkwood as his punishment.

Thranduil was about five steps away from confrontation when the youth finally looked up, noticing the change in Legolas's expression. Slowly, the youth lifted his head, his eyes widened when he saw him approaching. Those dark eyes lit up with recognition. Thranduil stopped right in front of Legolas who had yet to raise his head or acknowledge his presence.

"Come Legolas, we need to go now," Thranduil said shortly, his height overshadowed the youth beside Legolas. The youth caught his eyes and flashed a warm smile at him. Thranduil's lips curled up at the edge, sneering slightly then he swept his gaze away from the youth who seemed taken aback by his cold reaction.

"Legolas," Thranduil repeated with a hint of impatience as Legolas remained rooted to the ground.

"I have training," Legolas whispered. His voice barely audible.

"Training?" Thranduil echoed hoarsely. He glanced around with a fake smile on his face, perfected by years of practice. "My dear son, there's no need for you to train here. You are the future heir to the throne." He forced a chuckle out of his mouth, draping one arm around Legolas's shoulder. Acting like the perfect doting father. "Now come with me, son."

Legolas looked stricken, he darted his head around as if searching for help, but nobody would even look him in the eyes. His little friend looked shock as well. Thranduil gave Legolas a little nudge, beckoning him to follow after his steps. As he passed by the General, he paused and looked him right in the eyes. "_Thank you_ for all your help," he said in honeyed tones, barely covering his sarcasm.

An unfathomable expression flashed across the General's face, catching him by surprise as well. For the first time, Thranduil saw something emotional etched upon the hard face. The General had never showed any signs of emotions. Not even when he had to face the deadly Dragon all those years ago. Thranduil had thought that he was someone incapable of emotions but he was wrong. Before Thranduil could take a good look, the expression faded away and the mask-like face was back.

"Thank you, my Lord." The General matched his tone with his.

With a sweet smile plastered on his face, he walked gracefully across the room, his arm draped around Legolas's shoulders protectively. Legolas didn't utter a single word as they crossed the hallways of Mirkwood, heading towards Thranduil's bedchamber. Thranduil remained silent too, quivering with rage, his thoughts jumbled up with all that had happened.

How dare Elron went behind his back to give Legolas the idea about the Elven Guards. _How dare he! _When he had specifically ordered him not to. The beautifully engraved door of his bedchamber came into sight and then he brushed away the thoughts. Never mind. He would leave those muddling thoughts for later.

He nodded to the guards who opened the door. "Don't let anyone in," He ordered in low tones. If possible, Legolas's face turned a shade paler but he kept his back straight, shoulders back. Thranduil was almost impressed by the way Legolas managed to conceal his feelings. He would be a wonderful future King.

As the guards opened the door, Thranduil slid his hand down until it rested at the small of Legolas's back. He could feel Legolas's body trembling. "After you," Thranduil said politely, one hand stretching out as if welcoming him.

Legolas glanced back at the hallway with an almost desperate look, his eyes pleading. Impatient, Thranduil gave him a small push, urging him forward. Left with no choice, Legolas stepped into the room as the doors slammed shut behind him.

xxxx

**Legolas's POV**

_Do you know what is worse than fear?_

_It is the feeling of knowing that you have to live through your worst fear everyday. With no escape._

When the door slammed close, Legolas actually flinch, feeling like his hopes were slammed shut, blocked by the heavy wooden doors. "Sit," Lord Thranduil ordered silkily, his nostrils flaring.

Legolas sat on the soft bed with his head bowed, staring at his hands – hands that were trembling atop his lap. He took a deep breath, and placed one hand over the other, hoping to calm it.

Mistake number one: Never show ada (father) that he was intimidated.

Thranduil didn't say anything, he just paced around the room like a caged beast, ready to pounce at the slightest notice. The sound of his cloak swishing filled the silent room. Legolas knew that he was secretly studying him, waiting to see how he would react. The longer he sat in the stifling silence, the more suffocating he felt. Dark thoughts from all corners crept up to him, showing him his worst nightmares.

_He's going to torture me, _ Legolas thought fearfully. _Or he's going to punish me in some way he sees fit. _One thing was clear in his mind, Thranduil would never let him out from the room until he had suffered terribly.

"Who is that boy?" Thranduil's voice startled him.

Legolas's head snapped up in an instant, his heart sunk to the bottom of his gut as if it had turned to lead. Thranduil's lips were curled up at the edges.

Legolas quickly lowered his head, refusing to gaze at him. "W–What are you talking about?" Legolas feigned innocence.

Thranduil made a sudden movement, darting so close to him that his breath tickled against Legolas's cheeks. "Don't play games with me," Thranduil hissed, grabbing him by the chin tightly, forcing him to look into those cold merciless steel blue eyes. Legolas bit down his bottom lip, trying not to recoil in fear. "You know perfectly well what I am talking about. Do not make me repeat again." Thranduil pulled back sharply, causing Legolas to almost topple over. "Who. Is. He?"

Legolas kept quiet, averting his gaze.

There was a moment of pause and then –

"If that's the way you want, fine," Thranduil whispered with a sinister sweet smile. "Guards!" He bellowed out loud. Legolas's heart skipped a beat, reaching out a hand mid-air, as if trying go grab his robe.

"Daro!" (Wait!)

His shout reverberated across the chamber, amidst the fervent pounding of his heart against his ribcage. The double wooden doors were open and the two guards saluted to them. "My Lord?" One of them questioned.

Legolas shot a fearful look at Thranduil. If Dûreryn was left in the hands of Thranduil, he would surely torture Dûreryn or ban him to exile just so he could relish the pleasure of watching Legolas suffered.

Thranduil flicked a gaze towards him, triumph evident on his face.

"So, what shall it be?"

_To be continue…_

_**So, how do you guys find this chapter? Hopefully you guys are still enjoying this chapter and if possible, please leave a review behind. :P Hehe. It will cheer me up a lot! Thanks for reading!**_


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